Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1887-10-13

the foot OF the knoll on which ne STOOD,
IN the MIDST of q valley which he had be-
lieved to be sterile and uninhabited, was
a veritable oasis, looking like an en-
chented garden. He saw several acres OF
nicely titled land, thriving orchard IT.
rigated by a xanje evidently taken from
the Santa Cruz river, and in the
midst of the fresh green foliage
stood neat adobe buildings surrounde1
By bright-hued flowers. Promising HIM
self that he would go down and visit this
enterprising ranchero, who had evidently
succeeded in extractinga living from the
arid soil, and had "msde the desert olos-
som like the rose" he threw himself
down under the shade OF the willows,
and, overcome By weakness and fatigue,
fell asleep.
He awoke to find two sweet, dusky
eyes steadily regarding him through the
leaves, and found that they belonged to g
charming little maid six or seven years OF
age, whose dark skin told OF her Mexican
blood.
"Senor-sick?" she asked Fgravely.
eyes, senior sick. Come here and see
me-"
But she was off like shy and startled
bird. In z few minutes she returned in
company with gentle matron, whose
sad face and quiet manner told Of life
of sorrow ard strength that had been
born of it. With perfect dignity and
composure, and in the broken, liquid
oatois into which the southern races
transform our harsh mother tongue, she
expressed her sympathy for him, and Of
fered him the hospitality Of her house I'M
til he should grow strong and be able to
travel again.
He remained for several days, and
learned the history OF life that for sim
pie pathos, heroism and resolution has
few parallels. Seven years before che
had come to the little ranch with her hus-
band, her brother and seven children, the
eldest q msnly boy OF thirteen years. The
hostile Indians were making con.
slant raids through the country at that
time, and just as the three men of the
family neared the ranch with bunch of
cattle, upon which they expected TO p ace
their chief dependence, the Apaches
swept down upon them, killing the men
and bearing off the cattle.
The poor wife and mother helplessly
witnessed the slaughter of her dear ones
They did not xii. her, but perhaps she did
not thsnk them for that. But she had six
little children left, the youngest babe
in arms, the very child who had spied out
the stranger.
She had no money, no friends, no re-
sources save the little plot of ground
with its ditch of running water, and one
cow. The land had been set out with fig
and olive trees, little more than slender
twigs at that time, needing csaseless
cultivation and care before
they could possibly yield any
income. II she had been an
American woman, unless she were of ex-
ceptional pluck, very much fear that in
her fear and terror she would have st once
! fed to the nearest town and thrown her
self upon the pity and the charity of the
| inhabitants. Her little family would
hsve been scattered among benevolent
people and by and by she would have
married some gallant frontlersmsn who
would not have cared to be bothered with
the six children, and the little ones would
have remained perennial wards OF the
public. She came of a race to whose wo-
men we are accustomed to deny cour-
age, industry and independence; yet
what she did do was to determine that
she would keep her little fold unbroken
and maintain them herself in the desolate
home left them by their murdered
father. And there they had lived,
year after year, slways contriving TO
exc q living from the soil, until the
one cow had increased to three or four,
horse or two had been acquired, the trees
had grown large and productive, and the
children, waxing large and strong in the
healthful life, had come to years when
they were no longer burden, but help
to the toiling mother. They were as at
tractive, presentable and creditable a
little flock as were ever bred in cul-
tured community Or graduated from civ
ilized schools. Growing up under the
solemn shadow of the old Mission,
with the refining influence of fairly
well-informed mother, and with the
grand spur to character formation which
only daily necessity can give, they were
building up fac, self-reliant natures,
and the eldest girl, then sixteen,
was already Well-poised, charming
woman. Their nearest reighbor was
still ten miles distant. They saw no
strangers save the good padre, who came
now and then to spend day with them,
and the travellers who passed on the road
near by. Their one article of commerce
was the fig, dried under the mothers
skillful supervision, and which they sold
to passinglwsgfarers in dainty willow
baskets which she had taught them to
weave.
When the visitor departed he gave the
children s., and earned their enthusiastic
gratitude, for they had probably never
seen so much money before in their lives
He went off with pack Of merry little
people racing after him, and, as long a.
he WAS in hearing, cries OF 'Adios! Adios
Gracias, graciss, good Americsno!" ring
ing in his ears.
1 have given this little incident at
length, because l think 1t embodies a
brave aHd noble lesson. Here in Cali
fornis we have thousands OF acres OF gov
eminent land open to entry, rich and fer
tile soil, with bslmy climate above it,
and waIm-hearted people thickly popu-
lsting the country.
What this gentle little foreigner, hand |
icapped with heavy maternal cares, has
succeeded so we'll in doing upon the des
olate plain and under the pitiless sun of
Southern territory, should be compsr |
atively easy task for any woman of en-
terprise to accomplish in our own fair |
state. Our cities are plague-ridden with |
young and ragged children, miserable in |